The Switch
by Semblance of Sanity
Summary: Neville's daughter, Hazel, is allergic to her purple unicorn.


A loud sneeze echoed throughout the house, followed quickly by the sound of shattering glass. "Hazel?" Neville ran into the kitchen.

His daughter blinked up at him with tear-filled eyes and clutched her stuffed purple unicorn tighter to her chest.

"Sorry, Daddy" she whispered.

"Hey, it's okay, baby. Reparo," he muttered, waving his wand at the broken glass on the kitchen floor. "See? All fixed." Hazel ran forward and hugged his legs. He heaved her into his arms just as she sneezed, spraying snot and saliva across his face. "Yummy." Hazel giggled into his neck. He rubbed his face on her unicorn. "Maybe you're allergic to water glasses?"

She stuck her thumb into her mouth. "Hey," he scolded as he climbed the stairs. "I thought we talked about that. What did we decide?"

"It's for babies."

"And how old are you?"

"Six," she mumbled grudgingly as he set her on her bed.

"And are you a baby?"

"No."

"No." Neville pulled the blankets up to her chin. "So, no more sucking on your thumb, okay?"

"Mmk," she mumbled, snuggling further into her pillow.

"'Night, princess."

"'Night, Daddy."

* * *

"Well, if you think it's the stuffed animal, then just wash it."

Neville frowned at Hermione. "I can't just take it away. She left it at the coffee house last week and screamed until we found it again. That was thirty minutes later."

Hermione frowned. "That's really odd for a kid her age."

Neville shrugged. "I figure it has something to do with...you know."

"Hannah." If Neville didn't know better, he would have said Hermione was looking at him with pity. He looked away.

"Yeah."

"Well, that would make sense. This is a tough transition for her. One minute she has a mum, and the next -"

Neville bristled. "I know. I was there."

Hermione sighed. "I'm sorry. I know it affected you, too."

"No, I'm sorry, too."

They were silent for a while.

"Well," Hermione started. "What if you just bought another unicorn and switched it with the other while she wasn't looking?"

Neville blinked. Obviously. "What would I do without you?"

Hermione grinned. "I'll talk to you later."

* * *

The storekeeper had looked at him strangely as he purchased the purple unicorn - a splitting, albeit clean, image of Fluffy - and the glitter in his hair, coupled with the nail polish on the pinky finger of his left hand, did not help. He could only hope that the passerbies would conclude the truth - that he had a very creative daughter - but it was a brave new world. Oh, well.

He cast a Silencing Charm on his feet as he crept up the stairs. Hazel was sprawled across her bed, arms and legs outstretched like a starfish. Neville smothered a laugh.

Fluffy was dangling off the bed by his tail - which was caught in Hazel's vise-like grip. Neville crept toward the bed and eased himself onto the floor by Hazel's hand, watching her face the entire time.

He stared at her hand. Now what? Could he just rip it out of her hand really quick? Or should he gently tug at it? What if he pulled Fluffy's tail down, while sliding Fake-Fluffy's tail in the other end -

Hazel shifted, and Fluffy fell to the ground by Neville's knees. He smirked as he shoved the old Fluffy behind his back and arranged Fake-Fluffy to appear as though he had just fallen - tail in the air.

He grinned triumphantly as he left the room. That was too easy, he thought, and promptly tripped over a dollhouse, sending the tiny plastic pieces flying across the room and clanking loudly. He fell into the door, slamming it against the wall, and staggered onto a lego airplane, squelching a screech of pain as he hopped from the room on one foot.

Fifteen minutes later, as Neville sat at the table and graded Herbology papers, Hazel trudged down the stairs. "Hi, Daddy."

"Morning, princess." He looked up to see his daughter clutching Fake-Fluffy to her chest, and smiled in spite of himself.

"What's so funny?" she asked as she moved to the kitchen. He shook his head.

"Nothing."

"Ah-choo!" Hazel sneezed, and dropped her glass of milk. She looked up at Neville, fearfully. He sighed.

"Reparo."

* * *

_Written for the Test Your Limits Competition. Also written for Winnie the Poo in the Disney Competition and King Lear in the Shakespeare Challenge. _


End file.
